The Bloodcrafter
by Robert DeWarren
Summary: When a corrupt king takes over Ferelden, the Warden Commander takes up arms against him. But when his first attempt to unseat the monarch fails, what happens?
1. Chapter 1

_This is just a starting chapter, to set the stage. Enjoy! _

_Chapters will probably be longer after this, but no promises._

Two years. Arabus was still amazed at that. It had been two long, hard years since his King, and friend, Alistair had gone off into the Deep Roads for his Calling. He still remembered the going away ceremony. Alistair had left in full battle regalia with his wife beside him. Arabus had went along, with his spouse Morrigan, and his daughter Casair in tow to see his friend off. But now the Warden Commander is fighting for his life, and the life of all Wardens, against Bertram, the new King. Bertram, the son of Alistair.

The Grey Wardens had supported Bertram when he came to power, expecting him to be just like his father. They were wrong. They backing and support was met with fire and brimstone. Accusing the Wardens of heresy, slander, libel, and treason, he waged a campaign against them..

But Arabus, the Elven Blood Mage had stood firm. When the King called for his surrender he was met by a cry of "I bowed not to the Archdemon, I bowed not to the Witch of the Wilds, I bowed not the Mother, I will not bow to you!" And so began the struggle. Grey wardens and their allies on one side, and the Royal forces on the other.

Standing alongside the Dalish, Magi, and Dwarves, Grey Wardens fought, and overcame all obstacles that the corrupt monarch placed in front of them. Arabus, their leader was the focal point. The point where all looked towards whenever guidance was needed.

With him at their head, his armies crashed through all opposition to eventually reach Denerim, where Bertram had holed up in the castle. Crashing the gates in, Wardens swarmed the city; fighting, killing, and dying to preserve their way of life.

Everyone realized when Arabus streaked up the tower like a man possessed that everything would come to a head here and now, one way or another. At the top of the stairs, he blasted in the door to Bertram's bedchamber.

When the fighting in the streets had died down to mere scraps and fistfights, the entirety of the city looked towards the castle. This would be the deciding moment. No matter who had won the street wars, without their leader, they were nothing. And as they watched, a lone figure stepped onto the balcony.

And Betram waved to his subjects.


	2. Chapter 2

Agatha was _not_ happy. First her parents had told her that she couldn't go into the gardens to play, then told her that she couldn't stay with them. Left to her own devices, mischief was unavoidable.

The winding, twisting hallways of the castle had always been a place of adventure and travels, of drama and heroic deeds; at least in the mind of the eight year old princess. Currently, she was in one of the farthest, most remote portions of the castle, where her mommy had specifically told her not to go (of course, this caused her to want to go all the more.) Now braided red hair bounced as she fought the hideous dragon blocking her from the treasure she sought. Banging her candlestick-sword against the table-dragon's leg, she twirled, and fell.

Falling heavily against the door, she couldn't help but notice the elegant _A _carved into it. Reaching up as high as she could, she gripped the large door handle and pulled. Letting out a reluctant groan, the massive elm door swung open to reveal a small, comfortable room.

Inside there was a table off to the side, pressed up against the wall. It had silverware and cutlery for one person, with only once chair pushed up against it. There was a desk on the other wall, with an oil lamp, still burning brightly, perched atop and ink and quills scattered about. Off to the side was another door, through which a small bed could be seen.

"And to what do I owe the honor?" The voice almost made the princess come out of her slippers. Spinning on the spot, she noticed in a previously overlooked chair an apparently young man, with dark brown hair and the angular features of an elf. He sat with an easy air, with an open book on his lap, and no malice in his voice, only curiosity.

The little princess froze, immediately thinking of a way out of this situation, but could come up with nothing. Finally she decided with the truth and mumbled "Princess Agatha."

The man looked at her and grinned fully. Giving a smile that spoke of great power and wisdom, he returned "Hello Agatha, a pleasure to meet you. My name is Arabus."


	3. Chapter 3

Agatha pranced down the hallway, on her way to see her best friend. Since meeting the strange elf named Arabus, she had made a point to come to see him at least once every two days or so. They had become fast friends, even on the day of their meeting, with the young princess happily chattering away to this intent listener, while the elf smiled and nodded, and "oood" and "ahhhd" at all the most exciting places of her stories.

After visiting him for so long, she of course began to wonder why it was that this man was in the castle. She eventually brought it up one day, but all the elf said was "I am an extended guest of your family." This answer barely satisfied the young girl, but it was all she could get out of him, and she wasn't about to go to her parents. After all, she wasn't supposed to be down there anyway, and besides, she enjoyed having a secret from them.

But of course, all good things come to an end.

When Agatha was sixteen, she still visited her friend regularly, and her inattentive parents never noticed her absence. But all the secrets and sneaking game to a head one day.

"Agatha!" The princess looked up at the sound of her name, and noticed her father for the first time. "We have an important thing to do today, and I need you at the top of your game. I'm going to introduce you to the burden, and the power, of our family." The teenager quirked her head at this, but saw no way out of it, so followed her father. Taking twisting, turning corridors that seemed all to familiar to the girl, a knot of worry appeared in her stomach. What if they ran into her friend, and he told her father?

Her father was oblivious to her distress and marched right up to the door that she had first gone through so long ago. Without knocking, he barged in, and stopped. There facing him was an obviously unconcerned Arabus. "Greetings, King Taroe, and how are you this fine evening?"

The King was obviously unamused, and frowned at the elf's casual manner. "I am here to orient my daughter with the tool we've used to remain in power so thoroughly." Taroe returned, obviously gaining a little bluster at this sentence. Agatha glanced back and forth, trying to understand. What did Arabus have to do with this tool? Did he protect it? She couldn't imagine her easy-going friend able to protect something that was obviously so powerful. "This man is Arabus, an _ex_-Grey Warden." Taroe continued, putting as much malice in the _ex_ as possible, though Arabus seemed unconcerned. "This man, is the Bloodcrafter"


	4. Chapter 4

_Aw, come on! I have gotten no reviews yet! Even if they aren't praise, its nice to get some kind of feedback! If it bothers you that I upload short chapters, say so. If you like the short chapters, which Ill do more often now that I'm going to start updating again., say so._

_Just some feedback, kay?_

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The Bloodcrafter? This made no sense. Agatha knew about the Bloodcrafter, just like all other people in Fereldan. He was a boogeyman, someone that parents threatened their misbehaving children with. He was most certainly _not_ this thirty-something year old man sitting in front of her with a bored look on his face.

"You're kidding." She said it flatly, with a deadpan look on her face. Her father, obviously expecting this, shook his head.

"Despite his dimwitted and weak appearance," the king glanced at Arabus from the corner of his eye to see if he had gotten a reaction, but the elf merely yawned "This man _is _the Bloodcrafter. He has managed, through vile sorcery, to keep his life sustained all this time. My grandfather, Bertram the Resilient, managed to trap him here."

"Ah, is that the new version of the story?" Both royal people in the room looked at the elf in surprise of his first words. Looking at Agatha, he explained "The speech the prince/princess gets when introduced to me changes a little every generation. When Bertram introduced his daughter the speech was something along the lines of 'Here is the blasted elf what almost killed me. Keep him locked up in here and use his power to stay on top"

Taroe, just now managing to regain his breath at the undisguised belittling of his famous grandfather shouted "Enough! I will here no more treachery against the greatest monarch to rule Fereldan!"

"Greatest?" Arabus returned, "From what I understand, after my little rebellion, he had to drive taxes through the roof to pay for the Antivan mercenaries he hired, he was almost assassinated twice, was constantly drunk, and slept in harlots' bed more than his own."

Both members of royalty now stood in open-mouthed shock. It was a capital offense to speak ill of Bertram the Resilient, and a punishable offense to speak ill of any of the royalty. This man, however, did not shout these as a drunken dissenter would, but calmly stated them as if noting his roast pork was a little dry.

"Say whatever you wish of him, scum, but never forget he beat you. You are now, and have been for the last 120 years, our prisoner. You are no longer the great and feared Bloodcrafter, no longer the Warden Commander, no longer the slayer of the Archdemon and the Mother; you are simply a tool now." Turning to Agatha, "He stays here, bound by magic that noone alive today can undo, aside from the royal family. Anytime the Kingdom is threatened by a force we cannot stop, _he" _Taroe pointed toward Arabus "is sent out, bound in magic chains, to use his dark powers for the very kingdom he attempted to destroy!"

"I never attempted to destroy Fereldan." Arabus stated. Agatha had to admit, after all of the things her father had just said, that would not be on the top of her list to deny. "I admit, and do not regret, attempting to kill Bertram; but I would never go against Fereldan. And besides, why do you not tell your daughter of how I was 'defeated' as you put it? I'm sure she would love to know."

Taroe glared at the elf, but with Agatha's eyes boring into the back of his head, he could see no way out of it. "We were able to capture several other members of the rebel force, he surrendered when he fount out" Agatha looked at her father, but could say nothing. First the shock of being led to this room, then finding out all of this, then being told her 'glorious and most excellent' great-grandfather had kidnapped some of Arabus' friend to defeat him? She supposed she could see the logic, now. After all, she had gone from surprise, to shock, to simply logical. If Bertram had kidnapped some other rebels to stop the leader, that was understandable.

"'Capture members of the rebel force'?" Arabus quirked an eyebrow. "Is that what you call kidnapping my wife and daughter?"


	5. Chapter 5

_Woo! First review! Thanks Psycho._

_Also, very, VERY mild swearing (2 words, used in proper context)_

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It was simply too much, Agatha ran. She couldn't imagine it; her glorious and wonderful great-grandfather stooping to kidnapping his rivals loved ones? But as the thought set in, she could begin to see it. Her father always held by the rule "If it keeps you in power, do it." She usually turned a blind eye to these things, not wanting to think ill of her father, but it was no irrefutable: her family was scum. Even if Arabus had rebelled, she doubted he had gone so far as kidnapping to make his point, so now with her world flipped, she ran. She didn't like this new world, where her best friend was the stuff of nightmares, her father was a bully and a charlatan, and her grandfather was a tyrant. No, she didn't like it one bit.

And so now here she was, barreling down a random hallway, slamming open any doors she came across without looking to see what they were. The fact that she had never been down here and was quickly getting lost mattered very little to the distressed princess at the moment. She could hear her fathers footsteps behind her, but he was old and spoiled, so she easily outpaced him. She couldn't definitely run farther and faster than him, so long as nothing got in her way.

Something got in her way.

She didn't even register the brunette child before they were both tumbling head over heels into a desk. Standing up, she rushed out an apology as quick as possible, but the brown haired child shook her head. "It's alright, accidents happen." Standing up, Agatha got her first good look at the girl. She was younger, about eleven or twelve, with extremely dark brown hair and slightly angular features. She had pale skin but the kind that comes from ancestry, instead of lack of sun. Her simply-but-sturdy clothes gave the hint that she was probably the daughter of one of the servants, maybe a cleaning lady. "What's wrong? You seem upset," the girls piercing green eyes studied her, hinting at wisdom a child that hasn't even hit puberty should not possess.

Before Agatha could respond, Taroe bust through the door, and what little color in his face disappeared. "Agatha, come here, _now." _The princess stared in bewilderment. What was going on now?

"If the Princess Agatha does not wish to accompany you, She does not have to." The young girl spoke in a clear, young voice, with no malice or happiness in it; simply logic. Agatha glanced at the girl, only now realizing that she had never mentioned she was the princess.

"Agatha, if you do not come to me _right this moment_, there is a good chance you will be killed or worse." The color for the kings face had stubbornly refused to come back, despite Taroe's obvious bid for self control.

The princess's eyes widened "Worse? What do you mean 'worse'?"

"'Worse' is when you are an eternal slave to a child that is living a damned existence" The king spoke clearly and slowly, never letting his eyes waver. Agatha was absolutely bewildered for the slightest moment, before realizing who was standing beside her. The princess bolted across the room to her father quicker than she thought possible, and turned to stare and the young girl, wearing and uninterested, and oddly familiar expression.

"I am not 'living a damned existence', I am simply different. The fact my soul is made up of two other creatures souls, does not curse me, merely makes things a bit more complicated." Agatha, safely in Taroe's arms, was truly frightened now. She looked around for the exit, before her eyes settled on the door. There was something familiar about that door…

Then it hit her. The carvings, the symbols, even the wood. The only difference was the letter was a _C _instead of an _A._

"You're…" Agatha started, but could not force the words out of her mouth. It seemed that her common senses had taken leave from her body. The brunette quirked an eyebrow, once again a familiar gesture. Swallowing, the princess tried again "You're Arabus' daughter, aren't you?"

The girl grinned widely, before dipping into a curtsy (well, close to one, considering she was wearing pants instead of a skirt.) "You are correct, Princess Agatha, my name is Casair the Ancient, daughter of Arabus the Bloodcrafter and Morrigan the Witch, a pleasure to make your acquaintance." Both king and princess stared dumbfounded at the introduction, before the young girls eyes clouded a bit, then sharpened again. Sitting down on the chair, she asked in the slight lisp of a child "Care for tea?"


End file.
